She came across another picture of her and Anika. She and her sister stood side by side, but with a foot of space between them. Anika’s face looked red and swollen, as if she’d been crying. Neither eighteen-year-old Anika nor five-year-old Ellis was looking at the camera. It was captioned: Anika leaves for Virginia State, Sept. 1974. How hard for Anika to say good-bye. Gretchen will miss her.
She continued flipping pages. Ellis’s first day of school. Ellis at the fifth grade spelling bee. Ellis with her mother on Mother’s Day, 1979. Ellis as a young teen and her father on the front porch, both looking bored and uncomfortable. Ellis holding her first driver’s license as she stood beside her father’s 1982 Oldsmobile, the car she’d taken her road test in. Assorted Christmases, some birthdays, other snapshots that froze some moment deemed worthy at the time. But none of Ellis with both parents. And no more pictures of her brother and sister.
She strained to remember everything she could about the years after Nicolas and Anika left home for college. She was sure they’d both come home occasionally while they were in college, but those instances were painted in the same blurry impressionistic renderings as much of the rest of her childhood and youth. Her only distinct memories was of them being home for their mother’s funeral in early August of 1987 and then for her father’s in 2002.
She recalled her sister’s wedding. Ellis was nine. Anika graduated from Virginia State with her degree in Visual Communication and Art Design in June of ’78, and married in August of the same year. Her mother had been too sick to travel to Richmond for the wedding, so Ellis and her father made the drive without her. Nicolas was one of the groomsmen, and her father walked Anika down the aisle. Ellis remembered wearing a dress that was at least a half size too small and sitting all alone in a pew on the bride’s side of the church. She had no memories at all of a reception or photographs, only the long, silent ride back to Savannah after the ceremony, her father driving all night with her sleeping off and on in the backseat of the car.
Ellis thumbed backwards through the album. “No wonder I’m such a weirdo. We sure look like an emotionally constipated bunch.”
She was all set to plop the album back in the box but decided to take one more look through it, since tonight would probably be the first and last time she turned the pages. It was no more satisfying on the second pass than it had been on the first. The album wasn’t even full; it stopped cold several pages from the back, the clear overlay sheets plastered to the self-stick backing.
She absentmindedly turned the first blank page and then the second one, but when she glanced down, she was surprised to see the page wasn’t blank at all. Affixed beneath the overlay was the first page of a letter in her mother’s tidy, labored cursive dated May 3, 1987. Her heart fluttered wildly in her chest as she read.
My dear Grettie,
In a few weeks, you’ll graduate from high school. We already know you’re going away to college in Athens this fall, so I can only call you my baby a little while longer. I will miss you dearly when you go. I wanted to put this album together for you so that you’ll have something of home to take with you.
I haven’t been a very good mother to you. My sicknesses have kept me from doing so many things I wanted to do with you and for you. I hope you can forgive me for that.
More than just these photographs, though, there are some very important things I need to tell you. Your father and I disagree about this, and he has told me I must not say anything to you on this matter. Although it’s not wise to cross him, I have decided that writing it is not the same as saying it, so if he ever finds out I’ve told you, my excuse is that I used pen and paper and not spoken words. He may be angry with me, but it won’t be the first time.
There is no easy way to tell you this, so I will just say it plainly: Nicolas and Anika are your half-brother and half-sister. When I was young and foolish, I fell in love with a man who told me he loved me, too. He only loved me as far as the bedroom, and when he learned I was pregnant, he vanished like a thin fog on a hot summer morning.
I thought my life was ruined forever, but then while the twins were still less than a year old, I took a class at the college and met your father. To my delight, we found love with one another. He agreed not only to be my husband, but also to be a father to Nicolas and Anika. He was nearly forty when we met, so taking on a ready-made family was a big sacrifice for him. He made me promise him one thing, though. He insisted that we not tell the twins that he was not their biological father. Perhaps he thought it was best for them, but I suspect it was more about his wanting to always feel in control. I confess that it also let me bury my shame for my earlier mistake. That’s part of the reason I agreed to honor your father’s rule not to tell them the truth.
Our life as a family went along well for several years, but then an unexpected blessing came along. We learned that you were on the way. From the second I knew your tiny body was growing inside of me, I promised myself that, if God allowed it, I would give birth to you, even if it was the last thing I ever accomplished. Because my health was already failing, the doctors cautioned us about the risks. Your father wanted me to end the pregnancy in hopes of protecting my health. I refused. The doctor wanted to give me a drug that was supposed to prevent miscarriages. Like most drugs, it had some long name that I don’t remember, but its common name was DES. I told the doctor I wouldn’t take the drug. Your father was furious with me, first for refusing to end your barely started life and then for not doing what the doctor said I should do.
As you see, I made the right choice. You came to the world whole and healthy, and I have never once regretted my decision.
But your father could be an unpredictable man.
A few days after Nicolas and Anika graduated from high school, he told them the truth about not being their real father. Your brother felt angry and betrayed. Your sister was confused and overwhelmed. They blamed your father for the deceit, and they blamed me for my silence. To this day, they have never forgiven either of us. I believe it’s why they almost never come home to see us. They feel that your father regarded them as less important than you. That was never true, but all the years of not being honest with them took their toll. My greatest hope is that by telling you the truth now, you might be able to help heal the wounds that have kept this family apart for the past many years.
A real family is made by love and shared experiences, not by bloodlines. Your sister is the best example of that. I had to stay in the hospital for two months after you were born. Even though Anika was only thirteen, she took care of you that summer. She fed you and rocked you to sleep and tended your every need. She was always ready to do whatever she could to keep you well and happy.
I know your father rarely spent any time with you. He won’t admit it, not even to me, but I’m sure he always felt that you were what made me so sick all these years. He’s wrong. You were my reason for being alive and my hope for what was to come. You made me want to live through all those times when it would have been so much easier to give up. I don’t know how much more life I’ll be granted, but living to see you grow into the beautiful young woman you are today has made me the richest woman on earth.
Try not to judge your father too harshly. He did the best he could. Yes, he made mistakes, but we all do. Love can cause people to be blind, but it can also open your eyes in ways you never dreamed of. He did so much for me and for the twins. Always remember that no one is purely all goodness or all evil. We all have a mix of characteristics.
Later this month, you will leave home, and we can never know what tomorrow will bring. Better you have the whole truth than that you spend forever not knowing this.
I pray that you won’t be angry with me and your father like Anika and Nicolas were. Please know that I’m only telling you this because I love you more than anything in creation. I have always believed that if you do something for love, even if it at first brings grief, it will ultimately bring joy.
When you find someone special to
share your life with, Grettie, whatever they ask of you, if you choose to do it, do it with love. When you were one of God’s angels, you asked me to be your mother, and with all the love I could give, I have been. Thank you for being my little girl—and for being who you are now that you’re all grown up.
The letter was signed, “Eternal Love, Mother.”
Ellis wasn’t much of a drinker, but the impact of her mother’s letter left her feeling fall-down drunk. If everything she’d ever believed about her family was really a pack of half-truths, how could she believe in anything so intangible as the laws of gravity? She slid off the edge of the bed, where she’d sat for what felt like her entire lifetime as she read her mother’s letter, and crashed onto the floor.
Where to start to try to find her way through the multiple quagmires surrounding her? No wonder Anika had looked so shell-shocked in the photograph taken the day she left for college. Her world had been ripped out from under her.
What had her father’s insistence about hiding the truth accomplished? Devastation and disillusionment, as best Ellis could tell.
She wished she had at least a tentative bridge to her brother or sister. This wasn’t news someone should have to face alone.
Half-brother. Half-sister, Ellis reminded herself. She skimmed the letter for the exact words her mother had penned: My greatest hope is that by telling you the truth now, you might be able to help heal the wounds that have kept this family apart for the past many years.
Was there a statute of limitations on heeding a mother’s advice? She hoped not, but there was only one way to find out.
Ellis got to her feet, went to the living room to the computer, and connected to the Internet. A people search of Richmond might turn up information on her sister, but she opted for a different approach. Clicking through several submenus on the Smithsonian site, she eventually found a list of primary staff members. She linked to Nicolas VanStantvoordt’s email contact page. She got as far as “Dear Nicolas,” before her fingers froze over the keyboard.
What’s the right thing to say to a man you always thought was your full blood brother, but who you’ve just learned isn’t? A man who possibly hates you—or at least resents you—a man with whom you’ve never corresponded and whom you last saw at your father’s funeral four years ago? For nearly ten years after high school, Nicolas had buried himself at Princeton in pursuit of multiple degrees in Museum Studies. He hadn’t married until 1988. Ellis presumed her father had been invited to the wedding, but she hadn’t received an invitation. Had one come to her in Athens at UGA, she wouldn’t have gone anyway. She wasn’t even sure how to spell his wife’s name. Sheryl? Cheryl? Sherrill? Or did she go by Cheri? Shari? Sherry?
“This is hopeless.” Ellis scribbled down Nicolas’s email address from the site and left the computer. “My brains are too scrambled to tackle this right now.”
Sam went to the door and woofed. “Guess you want to go out, huh, girl?” Ellis clipped Sam’s leash in place and slipped on a pair of worn deck shoes. “Let’s make it quick, okay?”
She and Sam headed to the designated doggie area beyond the parking lot. Too late, she realized her newly-pregnant neighbor, Janet, and the Welsh Corgi, Robbie, were already there for the same purpose.
“Hi, Ellis.”
“Hi, there, mama-to-be. I hear congratulations are in order.”
Janet patted her midsection. “My husband certainly thinks so.”
“You don’t sound quite as excited as he did when I saw him earlier tonight.”
“I’m happy. And even if I weren’t, he’s so thrilled by it that I’d go through with this just so I could see the way his face lights up every time he tells somebody else that our baby is on the way. He’s been on the phone all night calling everyone in his family and all his fraternity brothers. He’s like a kid who found an extra-special decoder ring for all the mysteries of the universe at the bottom of his box of cereal.”
“And you?” Ellis asked.
“I was an only child. I’ve only got one cousin, and he’s quite a bit older than me.” Janet scooped Robbie into her arms. “So I don’t have a lot of experience with children. I’m afraid I might turn out to be one of those mothers who duct tapes her kid’s mouth shut if he cries too much or locks him in the closet if he doesn’t behave.”
Ellis laughed appreciatively. “I know what you mean. And I hear they don’t come with instruction manuals.”
“That won’t be a problem for us. Russ’s mother and sisters are standing by to give me way more pointers than I could ever use.”
Ellis tugged on Sam’s leash. “You about done there, kiddo?”
Janet jiggled Robbie’s leash. “I wonder if anybody ever used a leash on a kid while they were toilet training him. Who knows? It might be a really effective way to get them to use the potty.”
“You could write a book and make a fortune.”
“We could use it. Russ has already gone online to see what the average cost of raising a child is now. I think he said it’s around nine thousand dollars a year, and that’s without saving for college or any of the big expenses.”
Ellis gave a low whistle. “Whew. It counts up in a hurry, doesn’t it?”
“I’ll say. But everyone we’ve talked to tonight has told us you really can’t put a price tag on love.” Janet glanced toward the apartment building. “There’s Russ.” She gestured to his silhouette on the second-floor landing of the garden-style building. “I suppose he’s wondering what’s taking me so long with Robbie.”
“Sam’s done here. We can walk back together.”
Janet waved to her husband as she and Ellis crossed the parking lot. “Be right there, Daddy.” She exaggerated the last word.
Even though they were still several yards from him, Ellis saw sheer joy spread over Russ’s face.
“See what I mean?” Janet asked. “That goofy grin is going to be what gets me through morning sickness, swollen ankles, however many hours of labor, and heaven knows what all else. I guess all those people Russ and I talked to today are right. Who cares what this pregnancy costs me? The only payment that could possibly make it worthwhile is seeing the love of my life look like the happiest man in the galaxy.”
Back inside the apartment, Sam claimed her usual spot on the sofa while Ellis foraged in the kitchen for something that could pass for dinner. It was nearly nine o’clock, and breakfast had been fourteen hours earlier. Despite all the emotional upheavals of the day, her body was finally ready to cooperate in consuming some food. She decided against risking the sandwich she’d bought during her encounter with Becky. Instead, a slice of pizza left over from three nights ago, a cup of yogurt, and a half a bag of peeled carrots made up the main course. Dessert was two peaches that were just this side of overripe.
She forced herself to sit at the computer and compose an email to Nicolas. It was brief, telling him she had only now learned the truth about the family and asking him if they might begin a correspondence. She hesitated before hitting the send key, but decided it was a case of nothing ventured, nothing gained and turned the message loose.
The blinking light on the answering machine caught her attention, and she remembered Natalie’s call from before her trip to her past. She pulled her cell phone from the button-flap front pocket of her work shirt.
“Hi, sweetheart. I was afraid you weren’t going to call tonight.” Mary’s voice washed over Ellis’s ears like a healing wave of sound. “I was starting to worry that you’d found someone new to spend your birthday with tomorrow.”
“Not a chance, babe. Sam and I are still totally devoted to you.” Ellis hunted for a way to explain at least some of the day’s events. “It ended up being a really tough day. Sorry to call so late.”
“I’m just glad to hear from you. Did you get Nat’s message?”
“I did. How’s the settling-in process coming along?”
“Only another thirty or forty years, and I’ll have all the boxes emptied.”
; “Sounds like you could use some help.”
“What I could really use is someone to explain to me exactly why I thought moving up here was a good idea in the first place. And I could also use a certain female landscaper in my bed and a truckload of tranquilizers.”
“Don’t ask for much, do you?”
“Only for what I really, truly need.”
“How ’bout I take care of one of your requests?”
“Which one?”
“I was never in favor of the move in the first place, so I can’t help you out there. If you take a truckload of tranquilizers, there wouldn’t be much point in having that landscaper you mentioned climb into bed with you.”
“I’ve checked the weekend forecast, and there’s not a drop of rain within a thousand miles of Georgia. You said my only hope of seeing you this weekend was if you couldn’t work.”
“It may not always show, but I’m a woman, and the last I heard, it was a woman’s prerogative to change her mind.”
“Don’t tease me, VanStantvoordt. It’ll break my heart if I think you’re coming up for the weekend and then you don’t show.”
“If I thought I could bail on my jobs for tomorrow and Friday, I’d load Sam up and hit the road tonight.”
“You said it was a rough day. It must have been a killer if you’re actually blowing off a whole weekend’s work. You didn’t get hurt, did you? Is your ankle giving you trouble?”
“My work day wasn’t what got to me. And my ankle is fine.” Ellis cranked her foot and heard the tendons popping. Long days still brought some tenderness and swelling. Maybe two days off would be good for more than just her head and heart.
“If it’s not work, what is it?” Ellis heard the anxiety in Mary’s reply.
Ellis recounted what she had learned from her mother’s letter. She didn’t mention running into her now-pregnant ex-partner.
Detours Page 16